They’re well served now, God curse them.’ Now Moses spoke,
Saying: ‘The potter has his craft, so has the builder,
So has the maker of songs. The Lord too
Has his craft. And it may be called. A
Dance of numbers. So far he has smitten
Egypt seven times. Rivers of blood.
Frogs. Gnats. Flies. A striking down of their
Sheep and cattle. The curse of the teeth of the
Locusts. Now the plague.’ On the mud floor
He marked in strokes with his staff to the number seven.
‘The making of the world,’ he said, ‘was a dance of seven.
The bringing low of Egypt. Will be a
Dance of ten.’ They listened. ‘For in the heart of
Pharaoh there must be a kind of dance.
It must soften. It must harden. It must
Soften again. Must harden for one last time.
And then, like stone, it must crack. It must
Shatter. And Egypt. Must shatter with it. Delay.
Some of you think of delay and fret. But remember.
The Lord must have his craft. And we need the delay.
We must gather our possessions. Our carts. Cattle.
There is a matter of supplies. Grain. Water.
We must prepare. Our order of march. Think of the
Sick. The unwilling. The cries of those who
Would be left. To last out their days. In Goshen.
Women with child. Many problems. The question of
Unifying the clans. Creating degrees of leadership.’
‘The question of arms, defence,’ Joshua said,
Eager though battered, scarred, limping. ‘The army.
The training of an army.’ – ‘That too, Joshua.’ –
‘The treasury,’ Dathan smiled.
In the imperial palace,
In full assembly, ministers about him, Pharaoh paced,
Hiding his deep agitation, while a scribe
Read figures out: ‘One hundred and seventeen thousand
Five hundred and sixty-seven. This is the latest
Computation, your divine majesty.’ Pharaoh said:
‘I am not greatly interested in numbers. So many dead,
So many lost cattle, devastated fields. It is not
Flesh and bone and possessions we lose,
For these can be replaced a millionfold.
It is the heart of the empire, the central idea…’
And a minister said, in pain: ‘With respect, majesty,
You cannot so easily ignore the suffering of
Your subjects. It is an essential in kingship:
The king must see himself as a head, his kingdom the body.
Must not the head feel the anguish of the body?’ But Pharaoh:
‘It is the heart that feels, not the head.
The head must be clear. The heart clouds and confuses.
Let us hear no talk of feeling. Thinking –
That concerns us now.’ But the minister cried:
‘If you have suffered – if you had lost – ’ And another:
‘If I may say this, majesty, our friend is distraught.
He has lost both his wife and daughter.’ But Pharaoh said:
‘He can have another wife within a day.
Another daughter within a year. I do not wish
To listen to womanish laments and improper rebukes.
Let us quieten our hearts. Let the head speak. Listen.’
And they listened. Pharaoh said: ‘This empire, Egypt,
Is the greatest the world has ever seen, perhaps
The greatest it will ever see. Our cities
Are crammed with all manner of merchandise, our ships
Sail all the known seas. Our towers kiss heaven,
Our armies shake the earth. We prosper, prospered…
At the very core of our empire lies a truth.
Or shall I say a belief that has long been taken
For a truth – the belief that the ruler of the empire
Has been appointed by the gods themselves,
That the Pharaoh is the issue of their flesh. How then can
The Nile fail to bless the land, the land
Fail to groan with the overwhelming
Blessing of increase? But now the gods
Seem to turn against their own flesh. Starvation.
Disease. Dissension. Fratricide. Distrust of authority.
Why? Why? Can the changeless gods then change?
Can the eternally strong grow weak? Can, from nowhere,
A new god appear to overthrow the
Tables of the eternal?’ The chief magician spoke,
After a pause: ‘Your majesty has touched upon
An interesting, indeed compelling, theological point.
The gods are the gods, eternal, self-created,
Subsisting out of time. There are no new gods.
But, your majesty, the gods, so we must believe,
Have no essential interest in human affairs.
It is only by virtue of prayer, sacrifice,
The raising of monuments, even the skills of conjuration,
That they can be swirled into the human orbit.
Now, as it seems to me, one god forgotten,
One long removed from the concerns of the state of Egypt,
Has been conjured. You know which god. You know
By whom.’ A nerve beat on Pharaoh’s brow.
Then he said: ‘You take us back to an old time –
A time when the false belief in a
Single god possessed many of the most subtle and
High-placed of Egyptians. You refer to Moses.
This belief has come back and it has attached itself
To a race of slaves.’ The chief magician said:
‘Logical, majesty, as you will admit. Will the slaves
Willingly embrace the gods of their masters?
These questions, as I said, are of immense
Theoretical interest, but – there remains
The matter of what is to be done. I would, I know,
Be overtreading the bounds of my office if I
Ventured to – ‘ But the first minister cut in with:
‘It is a simple matter, divine majesty.
The devotees of the god ask that they may do
Sacrifice to him. They request three day
Away from their holy work of building monuments
To the glory of the true gods of imperial Egypt.
It would be a mark of a kingly clemency to grant…’
And Pharaoh cried: ‘Be forced to grant, impelled to?”
For the slave to cease to be a slave? For the
Power of his God to be recognised, acknowledged?’ –
‘Only three days, majesty. With guarantees of return.’ –
And Pharaoh began to see what was meant. ‘Guarantees?’
He smiled. – ‘Guarantees, your divine majesty.’
Then the hailstones came, thudding on the street
And roofs and deafening, and, landing,
Spurting out flame. But not Goshen, land of
Servitude but also of sun and clean water. From Pithom
Moses and Aaron came to the palace, knowing it was
Time to ask again, and were admitted to a
Dark chamber full of candlelight, where magicians
Consulted entrails, burned rare gums and powders,
Intoned in an old tongue. Pharaoh was there.
Aaron spoke at once, saying: ‘We are come again,
King of Egypt, to ask that we be released
From our labours in order to…’ Pharaoh ignored him,
Addressing Moses instead: ‘Have you no respect
For our religion, cousin? We are at holy work.
We seek to avert these inexplicable nuisances
From the innocent Egyptian people.’ Aaron said:
‘Not inno
cent. Not inexplicable.’ Pharaoh sighed,
Saying: ‘Our ceremonies are tainted by the presence
Of the unbeliever. Go.’ And the magicians
Put out their fires, made obeisance, departed.
‘You seem to have reached the limit, clever cousin,
Of your resources’, Pharaoh said. ‘This magic
Hail of yours can harm no one.’ Aaron replied:
‘Harm was never intended. Not at first.
It was thought the signs of God’s power would be enough.’
But Pharaoh ignored him still, fixing Moses
With a look malevolent, admiring, even affectionate.
And Aaron: ‘Do we have an answer, sir? May we
Take an answer back to our people?’ Pharaoh still
Ignored him, addressing Moses: ‘Are you pleased
With your power, cousin? Does it satisfy you
To have impaired, even part-destroyed, this great
Flower of order? Do you wish me to bow down
To a god who is the enemy of the State?
For, believe me, the State can be hated only by the
Eternal forces of disruption, little of whose power
You have, through your trickery, shown us.
Without the State we are nothing, any of us.
Order, beauty, majesty, the unbroken
Chain of rule. To destroy the state
Is to betray us to those windy voices out there in the desert.
You wish to see Egypt become broken stone,
Lizards sunning themselves on broken stone.’
Then Moses spoke: ‘You cannot. Maintain order – ’
Pharaoh feigned amazement: ‘You have recovered your voice?’ –
‘Cannot. Maintain order. On slavery.’ Pharaoh cried:
‘What slavery? Any slavery? Or merely the
Slavery of your people? If you were to be made free,
Would you not have your highest and your lowest?
Would you not build your own pyramid?’ Aaron said:
‘Sir, we need your answer.’ And Pharaoh, in scorn:
‘Quiet, little man. I am talking to your better.’
Moses said: ‘We will build on the covenant.
On the bond. Freely embraced. The contract
Between man and man.’ Then Pharaoh bitterly:
‘Your high talk in a land you have turned into a
Charnel. I cannot stand your smell much longer.
You had better go.’ Aaron, eagerly: ‘May we then
Have a scribe called in? May we have this written
And stamped with the royal seal?’ Pharaoh spoke still
Only to Moses: ‘The word of the Pharaoh, Moses.
You may go to the desert and perform your sacrifice.
I have, may the gods forgive me, spoken.’
Moses said: ‘You have not finished, majesty.
I would rather you had said it now than shouted it
To our backs as we left your presence.’ Pharaoh cried:
‘What have I not then said?’ And then, quieter:
‘Ah yes. The men may go to the desert
And do sacrifice to the god of destruction.
The women and children shall remain behind.
As this is a kind of war, cousin Moses,
Shall we call them a hostage?’ Aaron was ready to
Rave, but Moses held him back, half-smiling:
‘Your heart is still hard, Pharaoh. This must mean
You have not yet had enough signs.
Or enough suffering.’ So they left,
And Egypt, as Moses knew, was ready for the
Ninth course. The hail had departed, the sun shone.
And God said to Moses: Take up a handful
Of the dust of the earth and hurl it into the sky.
He did so, and blackness fell. Thick, palpable
Dark in a black dark wind that doused all lights.
Nor did the other curses abate – the water blood,
Frogs, gnats, flies, locusts, murrain, plague,
Hailstones that flamed fire. Misery.
Death-carts through the dark. So, as foreseen,
Moses and his brother were summoned again to the palace,
But this time met by a minister, who said:
‘The order is that you leave Egypt and go
Into the desert, there to conduct your
Sacrifice.’ But Aaron, quickly: ‘The women?
The children?’ – ‘They are to go with you.’
Moses waited, holding Aaron back,
Aaron anxious to leave, so the minister said:
‘You expect something more?’ – ‘Something more.’ –
‘There is nothing more in the royal instructions.’
‘Nevertheless,’ said Moses, ‘there is something more.
We must wait for that something more.’ The minister cried:
“’hat manner of man are you? If you wish something more,
You may have it from me – the loathing of
One who did ill to no man and yet was compelled
To suffer. Who lost two of his dearest – No matter.
You are stone men. You ask something more
That our suffering may be prolonged. Go. You heard the order.
See – it is written clear. Why can you not go?’
And a voice said: ‘Yes. Why can they not go?’ The Pharaoh
Stood by a door of ornate gold, attended
By torchbearers, cold loathing on his face, saying:
‘They cannot go because they know there is something more.
What is the something more? You, Aaron, his voice –
What is it?’ Aaron said: ‘We are to go
Into the desert for three days, there to do sacrifice
In the middle of our month of Nissan. Men, women, children.
With our beasts, our goods – ’ But Pharaoh cried out: ‘No.
You have eaten of the bread of Pharaoh, drunk his wine.
For three days you shall neither eat nor drink.
You will sacrifice fasting. Then you will return.
Your beasts will bleat and bellow a welcome home.
Your pitiful goods will lie snug, awaiting you.
This is the contract. That the god cease his torments.
That you go forth for three days, three days only.’
But Moses said, ‘This, Pharaoh, will not do.
Your covenant with us was broken. Long ago.
There is no bond between us. When we leave this land
It shall be as free men. Taking with us our wives.
Taking our children. Sheep. Oxen. Goods –
Such as they are. Not the paring of a nail
Shall be left in Egypt. Not a hair or a scale
Of the skin of the beast.’ But Pharaoh cried:
‘You go forth naked. Naked you return.’
‘No.’ And Moses was not now slow of speech.
‘Your heart is still hard against the Lord and against the
Servants of the Lord. The land has suffered,
The king of the land must see the suffering brought home.
There is, Pharaoh, one last trial, the tenth,
And it will still not fall directly on your head.
You will live, whole and free, to see
The Israelites leave Egypt. But the trial to come
Will be the worst trial in the world. Do you now relent?’
But Pharaoh said: ‘The Pharaoh is not threatened.’
And then his stone face became flesh, then the flesh writhed,
And the tongue ground out: ‘If I see your face again…’
But Moses bowed to the words, calm, saying:
‘So be it. This is the last time, Pharaoh,
The last time you will ever see my face.’
They left the presence, the palace, walking surely through
Howling darkness, until, on Goshen’s border,
They walked thr
ough howling darkness like a wall
Into sun, clean air, and the song of fresh water.
Moses shuddered. The last thing coming. The last.
The tenth figure of the dance. But Pharaoh had willed it.
Men will even their own destruction. A heavy burden,
Free will, Moses sighed to himself, seeking fresh water,
No torment in the world greater than freedom.
6
THE PASSOVER
Moses, in sunlight, with the whirring of Miriam’s doves
And the cry of children about him, sighed and spoke
Softly of the Angel of Death. ‘Who shall describe him?
Or her? Or it? Like a trained hound of the hunters
He has the scent in his nostrils. He follows the scent.
He will follow the scent of the first-born.’ Miriam said:
‘You were told this?’ And Moses replied: ‘It is the
Last thing. The tenth figure of the dance.
Four days from now on the night of the
Fourteenth day of Nissan. The nose and the teeth of the
Angel of Death will dart straight
For the first-born. Whether Egyptian or Israelite –
It will be no matter to him of the
Separating of the nations. Even the
First-born whelp of a bitch’s litter. The
Hatchling of the hen. He will go for the scent.’
And Miriam, in terror: ‘For ours? For our
First-born?’ But Moses said: ‘Have no fear.
We have a secret. We will put him off the scent.’
So Aaron that day addressed the people, saying:
‘With your loins girded, sandals on your feet,
Staff in your hand, you shall be ready. So says the Lord.
For the time is with us. You shall eat the flesh of the lamb
Roasted, eat it in haste. And the bread your eat with it
Shall be unleavened, shall be a bread of haste,
With no time for the leavening. And you shall
Season your meat with bitter herbs, that the
Bitterness of the exile shall be in your mouths
At the very door of the exodus. Kill now and
Pray as you kill, for you kill in the name
Of the Lord’s Passover.’ So the knives came down
On the necks of the lambs, and Pithom was
All blood and bleating for a space. Passover,
Some said, what is Passover? Moses explained
In his old halting way: ‘We call it Passover,
And shall call it Passover till the end of our race,
For tomorrow we pass over from death to life.
And this strange supper we take tonight
In a ceremony. We shall have need of ceremonies.
To remind us who we are. What we are.
Collected Poems Page 15
